Hijacked by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Seven
Uttering a string of the filthiest expletives, Misko rushed to the deck housing the crew. Skipping the elevator, he used the stairs, making use of the shifting adrenaline rush that occurred as his body went from thoughts of fucking to fighting. Camila’s pleas echoed in the back of his mind. He would do his best not to hurt the crew, but sometimes, tense situation spiraled out of control.
We spiraled out of control.
He thought he had made the first move, but his hormone addled brain might have been remembering the moment wrong. Not that it mattered. She had been surprisingly enthusiastic, and he hadn’t been able to think of any reason to stop. She was right about the connection between them. It was impossible to deny. There was something there, something he wanted to pursue.
But first...
He winced at the soft hiss of the automatic door sliding open as he approached. As soon as he heard the shouting and crying, he decided no human could have heard that sound over all the noise. He eased into place beside Branko who watched Oona as she tried to talk down the captain and his crew. Two mothers stood behind her, wailing and begging for the crew to give back their children.
Not bothering to speak, his brother used their closed connection to fill him in on the details. “Best we can figure, the engineer accessed a panel in the floor and managed to open up the floor panels for the other crew members. They went into the space below beneath the deck and came up into the room across the hall. One with three children and a mother. Took the kids. Moved into the next room and took those children. They’ve got five children total.”
Misko gritted his teeth. “No one checked the blueprints?”
“It’s been a little busy, in case you haven’t noticed,” his brother communicated with a dark expression.
“Boss?” Marks used the closed connection of their squad to contact him. “Cable and I have the the port and starboard side exits blocked. Lenox is blocking aft.”
“Good. Hold your positions.” He put his hand on Branko’s arm before stepping around the corner. He surveyed the situation, and his hands curled into fists at his sides as he saw the captain holding a makeshift shiv against the neck of a crying toddler. Crew members behind him, some male and others female, held more children, most of them with similarly crude weapons.
Concerned this would go sideways and children would be killed, he smoothly exchanged positions with Oona. “Get the mothers out of here.”
Oona nodded and hauled the mothers away. They protested, but she ignored their cries and forced them into another room.
With the hall to the elevator cleared behind him, he settled into a less aggressive stance to show the crew he wasn’t here for violence. Meeting the other captain’s glare, he studied him. There was a slight tremble to the captain’s hands, telling Misko all he needed to know. “Sir, I understand we have a disagreement to discuss.”
“The only disagreement we have is who is in control of this ship,” the captain spat angrily.
“At the moment, we are in control. You and your crew members are blocked at every exit from this deck. You have no means of escape.”
“I know this ship better than the back of my hand,” the captain replied easily. “If you think one look at the blueprints is going to give you an edge over me, the man who helped design this ship, you’re an idiot.”
“I won’t argue that point,” Misko allowed. The child in the captain’s arms began to struggle, and the captain squeezed him tightly, causing the child to yelp and then sob hysterically. Hating the sight of a child in danger, Misko wanted to end this now.
But before he could even open his mouth to negotiate, the elevator behind him chimed. He didn’t have to look back to know exactly who it was. Only Camila would be reckless enough to walk right into an armed standoff. He clenched his jaw as the doors opened—and frowned when he heard his brother’s sharp intake of breath.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” Branko demanded, his voice uneasy.
Misko wasn’t sure what to expect when he turned toward the elevator, but it sure as hell wasn’t Camila holding a weapon that he had only seen in security briefings. She held it as if she had used it many times, and knowing her father’s company had created it, that was likely. She maintained trigger discipline, but he was keenly aware of how quickly she could vaporize him.
Growling, he said, “I told you to stay in your room.”
“Like I’m going to start following rules now?” Her furious gaze stunned him. Only moments ago, she had been crawling onto his lap, her pupils dilated with arousal as she met his feverish kisses. Now, she glared at him as if she hated him.
He felt instantly stupid. Of course, she hadn’t been truly interested in him. It was a ruse, and he had fallen for it.
Twisting the knife of betrayal even deeper, she laughed, the sound caustic and dark. “What? Did you really think I enjoyed having you touch me?” She scoffed nastily. “I would get on my knees to save my life any day.”
Humiliated in front of his squad, he swallowed hard and ignored her remark. “What’s the plan now, Camila?”
“You.” She gestured toward him with the weapon. “Get against that wall. Now.”
For a split-second, he considered fighting back, but there was a very real possibility of Camila firing and ripping a hole in the ship that would kill them all. He lifted his hands and pressed his back to the wall. “Now what?”
“Call off your cyber dogs,” she ordered. “And keep them back.”
“Fine,” he said stiffly and gave the order. He kept a wary eye on her as she walked by him, still training that weapon on his chest, and joined the captain and crew. “You are not taking those children.”
“Yes, we are.” She shifted the weapon menacingly. “But we’ll leave them by the shuttle.”
He started to snarl at her, but then she winked. It was so quick he nearly missed that almost imperceptible signal. He understood finally. It was all a game. Playing along, he said, “If there is even one scrape on those children—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she cut him off rudely. “Captain?”
“Yes, Miss Camila?” Captain Jantus answered.
“Lead us to the shuttle.”
“With pleasure, Miss Camila.”
She kept her weapon trained on him as she backed down the hallway, covering the crew and their hostages. Knowing only he could see her, she mouthed, “Steal me.”
His mouth twitched with the briefest hint of amusement. This wild, crazy woman astounded him.
Keeping his squad back, he inched forward as Camila and the crew moved to the stairs and climbed up one deck to the main escape shuttle. He dropped back and let his brother take the lead, silently communicating to him, Marks and Cable about his plans to snatch her at the last moment. Branko narrowed his gaze as he received the instructions but nodded.
When the group was out of sight, he darted to the nearest elevator and traveled to the deck above the shuttle. He mentally opened the ship blueprint he had scanned earlier and looked it over on the display in his eyes. He located the ducts and underneath them a ceiling panel directly over the shuttle loading dock.
Halfway between decks, he hacked the elevator and forced it to stop. He grabbed onto the small lip of gleaming metal where the doors met and used brute strength to shove them wide enough for him to slip through into the space between decks. He eased his boot onto the metal grate running the length of the space and tested it.
Reasonably sure the grate would support his weight, he crouched low to avoid banging his head on the pipes and cables and moved quickly to the access panel he needed. The closer he got, the louder the hum of the shuttle gearing up for launch became. He reached the panel and stepped over it as quietly as possible.
Very slowly and without making a sound, he prostrated himself just behind the panel. He looked down through the metal fins and clearly made out Camila’s blonde hair. She stood sentry in front of the shuttle as her crew filed into it. The children were released one by one and rushed forward to his team. His field of vision was restricted by the panel so he couldn’t see the children reuniting with the squad, but Branko pinged him with updates.
The last to pass by Camila was her captain. He set down the young toddler who ran screaming toward Branko. Instead of going into the shuttle, the captain grabbed Camila’s arm and tried to drag her inside. She yanked her arm free. “Not until the shuttle is ready to launch!”
“Now or never, brother,” Branko silently warned.
Misko snatched the panel free, throwing it far ahead, and swung down through the opening. He grabbed Camila by the upper arms, and she screamed so loud his hearing controls instantly muted all sound processed by his ear drums and brain. Whether her scream was one of true terror or she was acting, he couldn’t tell.
Down below, Branko rushed the shuttle, and the captain retreated hastily, slamming the door closed and activating the airlock from the other side. Misko dragged Camila through the panel and into the access space as the shuttle wheezed at a high pitch. He smashed her right ear against his chest and covered the other with his hand, blocking out as much sound as possible. The shuttle blasted out of the launch tube with a vicious pop and squeal.
When the ship stopped vibrating from the launch, he pressed her head away from his chest and cupped her face. He searched her eyes for any sign of pain. “Are you okay? Can you hear?”
She stunned him by answering his questions with a kiss. His concern for her hearing settled into the background as he slid his fingers into her hair and returned her kiss with many of his own. Pressing his forehead to hers, he breathed heavily. “You ridiculous, reckless woman!”
“I didn’t mean it,” she said urgently. Touching his cheek, she held his gaze. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
“I know.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I know it was a ruse.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Threatening us with a Vaporizer wouldn’t have been my first choice,” he replied, drawing a laugh from her. Confused, he said, “That wasn’t a joke.”
“If you say so,” she murmured and then kissed him again. Glancing around the dark space where he had hauled her, she wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Can we get out of here before space radiated rats decide to make us their next meal?”
“There are no other life forms in this area.” He scanned quickly again to be sure. “But, yes, we should go.”
She snorted with laughter, and he didn’t bother asking what he had said that was so funny this time. She handed over the weapon. “Here. You carry this. It makes me nervous as fuck to hold it.”
“You fooled me then,” he said, cautiously taking the weapon and checking the safeties.
“Yeah, well, I minored in drama.”
“That explains a great deal,” he said, finally understanding a little more about her. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to follow. “This way.”
“Ew! It’s all greasy! And dusty!” she whined behind him. “Ugh! And smelly!”
“There is a shower in your quarters,” he reminded her.
“Is that an invitation to share it with me?”
His face heated at her teasing. “Perhaps.”
“Is this you flirting?” she asked excitedly. “Because, if it is, we’re making progress.”
He shook his head as he held the elevator doors open with his boot and his back. "Is there a rubric for judging this progress?”
“Is that an assignment?” Camila paused as she slipped her leg over his and prepared to climb into the elevator. “Because I’m not sure you can survive the rubric I have in mind.”
He groaned at her playful banter and inhaled sharply as she deliberately rubbed against him while sliding into the elevator. He handed down the gun and then hopped down beside her, taking back the weapon when she practically shoved it at him. Instead of taking her back to join the others, he tapped the screen and selected the deck that held her private cabin.
When they reached her floor, she walked ahead, glancing back once to smile at him over her shoulder. His heart fluttered in his chest, causing a medical alert to flash in his field of vision, but he ignored it. This wasn’t medical. This was something else. It was something he never dared to dream he would ever feel.
It was the first stirrings of love.
